Original subtitles

I don't think it was a deliberate decision.

But after the messy affair with Julie Blaine and Nancy's baffling behaviour, I

stuck rigidly to a routine of work and the odd trip into the available

countryside to do some painting.

Compared with the recent past, my life was almost monastic.

The theatre can actually be a kind of womb.

You walk through the stage door and you leave the world behind you.

The audience intrudes.

And they're just abandoned faces.

Pale balloons waiting for a breeze.

I wasn't unhappy.

I enjoyed playing the solitary, rather aloof artiste and artiste.

The latter was a role I'd often rehearsed in my mind back in the mill

office in Bruttersford.

It certainly kept me out of trouble, which was the main thing.

And if I wanted company, there was always someone to have a gossip with,

like Sissy Mapes.

And Uncle Nick could certainly be relied on to provide a dramatic diversion.

What a bloody din!

Who called it a bloody din?

I did. I'll say it again if you like.

What a bloody din!

That's because you're out of date on these new numbers, pop.

Don't call me pop.

And I heard your new numbers 12 years ago when touring America.

They were a bloody din then, too.

I wouldn't care to quarrel with you, Mr. Arlington.

Miss Sissy Mapes, I am Otto Mergen.

The Herne Castle, pleasure.

Mr. Arlington's nephew who wants to be a painter, am I not right?

Well, Miss Mapes, what do you think of Liverpool?

She doesn't, neither do I.

She'll be good for business, huh?

Oh, I think so, I think so, yes.

As you said, what a bloody din.

I do not much care for these performers, you know.

Ah.

May I introduce Miss Lily Ferris, Mr. Ollenton, his nephew, Mr.

Herncastle, Miss Sissy Mates.

Alfred, aren't you going to invite them to lunch?

Oh, yes. Yes, of course, Lily.

It would give me great pleasure if you would all lunch with me at the Adelphi

Hotel at, um, one o'clock.

That's where Otto and I are staying.

Excuse me.

Don't forget, one o'clock.

Tell me, Mr. Mergan, who is Alfred Dunson?

He's the son of a very rich cotton manufacturer, but Alfred does not pay

much attention to business.

For months, he's been completely infatuated with Lily.

She seems to be bossing him.

She never stops bossing him. As far as she is concerned, Alfred is there to be

bossed.

I think I must tell you about Lily.

She is the third of eight children of a poor family in West Ham.

It was a very good home to get away from and to stay away from.

That is why Lily...

seeing so much about love and is attracted to men, though, hasn't the

least desire for marriage, domesticity or family life.

Alfred would marry her at once, but she laughs at him. Of course, he is most

easy to laugh at.

He is at the opposite extreme to your uncle, Mr Ollenton.

He's clever and clearly a formidable man.

Yes, he's got plenty of character.

Yes.

Welcome, Miss Fenn. Thank you. Are you quite well? Yes, thank you. Good. Will

you please follow me?

Mr. Hernecastle, I hear you're a naughty bad boy.

Who told you that, sissy?

No, Richard, I didn't.

Richard? May I call you Richard?

You can call me Lily.

All right.

Lily.

Tell me, Richard, do you paint portraits?

Only landscapes.

Not people at all?

I've tried a few sketches of faces, but...

I'm not any good at it.

I think you've just been modest.

He did a lovely one of Julie Blaine. There you are. You see, you could do me

too. Alfred would buy it, won't you, Alfred?

Well, I might.

And again, I might not.

And I might draw it, and there again, I might not.

Please try.

Don't take any notice of him.

I don't care about anyone buying the sketch. It's just that it's not my kind

of work.

If you really want me to try, then I will.

This afternoon?

Hey, whoa, steady the bass.

Don't forget, we said that we'll... Shut up, Alfred. It wasn't a definite

arrangement.

This afternoon?

Sorry, we're rehearsing.

Go on, I bet you're not.

And I bet he is.

I don't know about you, Miss Farris, but in my line of business, we have to keep

working at it.

I hear you have a wonderful act, Mr. Olington.

I shall sneak into the back of a box and watch.

You, the long-faced lad, think you should be drawing Lily instead of riding

a bike this afternoon?

It was their idea, not mine.

I ought to have said anything about you and Julie Blaine. What ideas into a

read? Not ideas.

Only one.

I'll tell you one thing.

I don't like that lot.

Her and Mr. Mergan and that silly Alfred.

They give me a funny feeling.

Only a simple daisy The meaning I shall get

Let's go and see him.

Let's go and see him.

Nollie, I bought these because they're pretty like you.

I bought them to show you.

They're lovely, Nollie. They're beautiful.

They are. They're for you. They're for you, Nollie. I bought them for you.

There was a disturbing irony about this pair.

The perfect English rose and the soft and oily Otto Mergin.

What's this?

What's going on? Don't you knock?

Lily's doing the dance of the seven veils and I'm cleaning a bicycle.

Yeah. Don't be silly, Alfred, and go away.

Well, I'm not being silly. It's him.

I can look, can't I?

Well, I don't think that's very like her.

Neither do I.

I like what you've done, you bloody twat.

Get out and stay out. Well, half a jiff, Lily. I didn't mean any harm.

And who is he, anyhow?

Just some cheeky young blighter. I'm telling you, get out.

All right?

All right?

I can tell when I'm not wanted.

Musty temper you've got, haven't you?

No, I haven't.

Tell you the truth, it was going wrong anyway.

Can you try again?

Don't go, Richard.

Have some tea.

Are you?

What?

What Alfred said.

Cheeky young blighter.

I

wish

you'd tell me something.

I wish you'd tell me exactly.

And I'm mean.

What you did with that actress.

What's her name?

Julie Blaine.

Tell me.

Everything you did with her. Go on.

Oh.

Can't remember.

It's private.

Spoke too soon, didn't I?

Maybe later on.

When we're really friends.

I suppose you think I've got lots of friends, but I don't.

Do you?

No.

You seem to have struck a poor company this time.

Nothing new to me, my dear.

I'm very particular indeed.

I mean, I act very friendly. I don't put on too many airs, seeing as I'm the star

turner and everything, but as for being...

Really friendly with most of the people on any bill well Well you ask our to

Morgan he'll tell you how very particular I am

But

I I Don't sleep with him

didn't think you did

Not if people do.

They don't say it, but it's written all over their faces.

I'll tell you one thing about Otto Mergen.

Whatever you do, stay on the right side of him.

What'll happen if I don't?

I don't know how it works, but things... Some very nasty things tend to happen,

so... It's God's truth, Richard, so don't...

Say or do anything, he might take offense to that.

Try and make a friend of him if you can.

I think Otto likes you.

I know I do.

Next time we won't have Alfred.

Thank you.

More rain on the way, I fear, Mr.

Herncastle.

As it transpired, I couldn't quite forget Lily, Ferris.

Still, that's one of life's many ironies.

The record usually shows more things we never wanted to do than those we

actually did.

I'm not going to mince words, Richard Oldfellow.

I love Lily Farris, and I don't care who knows it.

I've loved Lily Farris since I first saw her at the Tivoli, Manchester.

And she sang a pure white rose.

A great star, as we all know.

But that's only the beginning.

Only the beginning.

Now, you don't really know Lily, do you?

No. Well, I do, old chap.

We're the greatest of friends.

And I'll tell you, she's not just a pure, simple girl, as everyone knows.

But Richard, old man, while she has to...

put on a bit of an act as a star turner i mean off stage behind it all she's shy

believe it or not she's desperately shy shy oh come on

here come on here alexander's ragtime band come on here come on here

oh richard how very kind of you lucida

What would you like to drink?

Gin, whiskey? I have some excellent lager.

Lager, please. Good, good. We shall both have lager.

I, uh, understand you've been receiving a visit from our poor friend Alfred.

Was it, uh, was it embarrassing?

Not really.

He only said what you'd already told me.

Lily sent him to apologize.

Yes, yes, I know about that, yes.

It wasn't just to pull the strength of a hold on him, although I must say she

does enjoy that, but you seem to have made quite an impression upon her.

She did on me, too.

Lily's unusual personality, which is difficult to detach from her stage

character, repels some people.

Others find it quite fascinating.

What about you, Richard?

She's certainly interesting.

She has not said so, but I think she feels rather hurt that you've not

suggested another afternoon for the sketch portrait.

Look, Mr. Mergan, it was only yesterday afternoon that I had my first try.

Today I did some sketching down near Speak, and tomorrow... Lily is arranging

a little supper party tomorrow. She often does on a Saturday night. If you'd

care to come too, she will invite your uncle and Miss...

Mapes. Sissy Mapes.

Well, that's very kind of her, and if Uncle Nick and Sissy accept her, then

I'll come.

Otherwise, no, Mr. Morgan, thank you.

Richard, I've been asking myself if you are merely naive or what some people

call a cool young card.

Yesterday afternoon, I was called an artful young sod.

After I'd done nothing and said nothing, only taken what was being handed out to

me.

Better tell yourself I'm merely naive.

The lager, Mr. Morgan.

The one we're getting's the Napier.

Oh, Nick.

What's wrong with it? It's a fine vehicle.

I don't want a new car at all.

Because it's better and faster and does over 12 miles to the gallon.

We're taking it for a test run tomorrow, Richard, towards the lake. Scared to

come? We'd start early, 7 o'clock.

Oh, yes, do, Dick. Hey, we could take a picnic.

Oh, that'd be lovely. I'll bring my paints.

What about Lily's party?

I don't want to go to that silly woman's party.

Oh, Nick.

Oh, you go, girl.

Richard here will take you.

Will you, Richard?

If you want.

Have a glass of this, Richard, old man.

Grow a few hairs on your chest, I dare say.

Thank you.

Good evening, Richard.

Alfred has already attended you, I see. Quite a talent for that, have you not,

Alfred? You make excellent waiter, you.

He's very sensitive.

We are disappointed your uncle could not attend. He's the most delightful man

with strongly held opinions.

He knows who he likes and who he doesn't like.

Perhaps it is better he is not here. Then we are free to enjoy ourselves in

our own special and particular way.

And what can you mean by that, I wonder?

Richard, a highly intelligent young man, you are truly aware that not everyone in

the world is built in the same way.

Do not always wish to be painters, for instance.

It is part of good and civilized behavior to tolerate the differences

between one person and another, provided no harm is done. I'm sure you'll agree.

I'll think about it, Mr. Mergan, and let you know.

Richard, here's someone who's dying to meet you.

Phyllis Robinson, my very good friend, Richard Herncastle. He's on the same

bulletin. Oh, I know, I know. Why don't you two dance together?

You've seen the act? Oh, yes.

Ten or twelve times, I should think.

Ten or twelve?

It's Lily, you see. I follow her act everywhere.

Except you think I'm exaggerating, but I'm not, truly.

If I could be like Lily, I would.

She's got such a wonderful way to treat the audience.

You're Richard Hernecastle, I know. Can I sit down?

I'm Lady Chernock.

I'm a friend of Otto and Lily's. They often come and stay with me.

I've a damn big house, and I'd like you to come too one weekend.

Bring Phyllis here.

Well, I hardly know her. Oh, you won't regret it.

You'll enjoy yourself, I can promise you that.

How long have you known Otto and Lily?

About three years, I suppose.

They're special friends, though.

Not many secrets between us.

You take my advice, you'll get to know them really well.

Life's for enjoyment, isn't it?

Excuse me.

Hey, do you mind?

Don't leave me on my own, Richard.

You all right?

It's that man.

He's horrible.

Everybody's funny here, if you ask me.

Shall we go?

He's a nice boy, isn't he?

I hope not.

What was going on?

I couldn't make it out.

Such a funny collection of people.

Yeah. And that Phyllis something.

She spent the entire time following Lily about with great sheep's eyes.

Just like Alfred.

Stupid. That's why they get invited.

I wouldn't have gone at all, but I thought you might cheer me up.

And did it?

No.

Nothing will at the moment.

Don't you get mixed up without Lily Ferris and Merg and Dick, will you?

Promise me. I promise.

Nick's been getting grumpier and grumpier ever since we came to

Liverpool.

It's not the audience and their business. They're all right.

It's a two-dwarf trick. You can't work it out. That's another thing.

It's bad enough having one dwarf, but two.

Do you think

he's found another woman in London?

I shouldn't think so, Sissy.

He doesn't want me at all here.

Except for the act.

Oh, he's still liable to say, come on, girl, we're away, but...

It's nothing.

He could do that with anyone.

What's become of that nice little Nancy Ellis?

I don't know. She doesn't reply to my letters.

Oh, she will, Dick, you'll see.

Don't give up hope.

She's a nice kid and well out of this lot.

And you're lucky, aren't you?

When were you last really happy, Sissy?

The day I met Nick.

He was marvellous to me.

I thought you'd have gone to bed.

We've had a lovely evening, don't we, Richard?

It was very nice. Yeah.

You don't know what you missed, does he? No.

So there.

You're lucky you don't have to make a living as an actress. You'd starve.

What do you mean?

Do you think I've been living in a nursery all my life?

I know the kind of parties Lily and Merden give.

Fancy ones, not to put it crudely, am I right?

There were a lot of very strange people there.

And you're no better.

You've not much time for Lily, quite rightly. She's an evil bitch, but that

didn't stop you going to her party, did it? You couldn't get there fast enough

to gape and pry like a pig with its snout in the dirt.

I can't sit in this. I'm not going in this. No,

because you know I'm right.

That won't change the world, trying to shut it out.

It's there.

And it's like a running saw.

Why do you do that to her, uncle?

Because she won't face facts.

She wants to believe the world's one big magic garden.

Well, it isn't.

It's a slum.

She doesn't believe it's a garden.

This is if you need somebody to shout at.

The next day we motored to the Lake District.

The weather was warm.

A blue and gold springtime of the old poets.

But never seen Sissy happier.

She had that deeply feminine delight in a picnic in fine weather.

And an even deeper joy which women feel when they're with their men, and those

men are happy.

Once I didn't have to feel sorry for her.

The weather soon broke again, and the frustrated painter in me let Lily

persuade me to do another portrait.

I wanted to capture the changeling, half-repellent quality of her

personality.

I don't know what you like on the outside, do you?

I know what it feels like on the inside.

And there I'm a bleeding mess.

Don't like my act, do you?

There's no reason why you should. Don't be embarrassed.

It's just that... There's a part of me that still believes in... Nightingale

and the star and... Fields of golden hay and... Pure white rose.

I don't know where they are, but I know where they're not.

an house in west ham that's fit for a family of three but stuffed with twelve

your mother starts drinking because there's another on the way while your

jolly old uncle back from the sea takes ten of those when you're only twelve

that somewhere it's different.

That's a bit I sing with.

I know that most of the people I'm singing to are as big a bloody mess as

I'm in, but that's not you.

Or that cool, clever, cruel uncle you've got.

And I'll give you a tip while you're in the mood.

Don't get mixed up with me, Richard.

Or Mergan, especially Mergan. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about.

Why don't you push off now?

If I start something I can't finish and then get angry with myself and then...

Go on.

Thank you for... time and everything.

Oh!

I warned you a dozen times!

You can't deny I smote it on your breath!

We're doing my act on this tour, boy.

If you want one of your own, go and build it, and then try to get the

bookings yourself.

I was wrong then, was I?

What do you think?

Well, it seems to me I saved the illusion, perhaps the whole act.

But if I was wrong, then the next time we have an accident, I'd just do nothing

and just wait for you to save the days. That's it. That's exactly it.

Even if I seem to be making a pig's breakfast of it, you've got to leave it

to me. It's my responsibility.

If you and the others start improvising on what we've rehearsed, inventing new

bits of business and God knows what, in a few weeks' time we won't have any act

at all.

Just this once, I wasn't bright and you were, and what you did came off.

But don't ever do it again.

This is my act, whether it goes right or wrong.

Thank you.

Hi, Joe. Oh, Mr O'Castle.

Sounds African.

Dear Richard, I'm sure you understand now why I didn't want to see you after

that horrible night.

Though I was genuinely fond of you, there wasn't enough that was real

between us to withstand the embarrassment and humiliation.

But the real reason I'm writing is to explain what happened at Plymouth and

why Nancy didn't want to speak to you.

It was all my fault, Richard, dear.

I behaved in the bitchiest fashion.

I saw her when I went backstage after the pantomime matinee, and she told me

she had to change in a hurry because she was meeting you for tea.

And then, I suppose out of jealousy or envy, I told her about us.

She was upset, naturally, but if she cares anything about you, she'll come

round.

If I know anything about girls, she's secretly devoted to you.

There now.

You're still affectionate.

Julie.

Dear Nancy, I've heard from Julie in South Africa explaining why things went

so wrong between us in Plymouth.

Are you receiving my letters sent from Joe Bosenby?

Please let me know if you get this.

Even a postcard will do.

Hello, Sam.

I came to tell you that the get-in's tomorrow morning, not tonight.

They don't work Sunday nights in Burrington.

Why not? Everywhere else they did.

Burrington's not everywhere else.

Not a stagehand under 90 years old.

Go on.

Stage has got splinters, the orchestra sounds like 50 cats in agony, and the

room for the auditorium leaks.

I thought I'd better just warn you.

Does Nick know?

I shouldn't think so. He's never played Burrington.

Sam was right.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong from the moment we arrived in

Burrington.

Everybody soon started feeling very edgy.

Thank you so very much.

I thought Lily and I had years ago seen the last of such places as this.

Large brandy and soda, if you please.

The Imperial Hotel is equally as bad, you know.

Yeah, we're at the Victoria.

Rooms smell like old magazines and a natty.

You know, I don't like getting drunk, but I think I might.

I can offer you something better, Richard. In fact, Lily gave me a message

for you.

A pretty and charming young admirer, Miss Robinson, whom you remember, is

attending tonight's performance. So, Lily, you can be very kind as asked her

to spend the night with us at the Imperial.

And you, Richard, have been especially invited to join us for supper.

Now, there will only be the four of us, and I think you will find that pretty

little Phyllis will not be as coy as she was in Liverpool.

Good food, pretty girl.

I think I'll let you know how I feel after the second house.

I think I might feel fit for nothing except crawling into bed.

Oh, you say that because you've already had a long morning.

And tonight you'll be longing for nourishment and excitement.

I'm an old performer, Richard, believe me. I know.

Good idea.

Can I let you know how I feel after the second house?

Most certainly, provided we all survive the experience.

I don't give a damn. If there wasn't another date available, we should have

had this week out rather than have played a miserable hole like this.

Now, damn lucky I'm not cancelling my contract with you here in our joke,

Bosonby. And I'll do just that, by God, unless there's some major changes by

first house tomorrow.

Richard.

Phyllis.

I'm delighted you've come.

We are in for a most jolly evening, I feel sure.

Oh, yes.

Most jolly.

Richard painted her in the nude, didn't you, Richard?

I painted her dressed in white, lying on a gravestone in a churchyard, honest.

What an odd thing to do.

That's what she wanted. She was a bit of a show-off.

She had flaming red hair.

Sat up in the tree to do it. You never guess what happened.

She became an angel before your very eyes, Richard.

Took you by the hand up to heaven.

Am I not right?

I'm an angel, aren't I, Lily?

Yes, my dear.

Pure and white as an angel.

Go on, Richard. What happened?

She's drunk as a mop.

Might be wise of Lily to get her into the bedroom.

Come along, my dear. Come along.

Richard, lend a hand.

Come on, my dear. There you are.

Come on, my dear.

No,

no, no. No dancing. No dancing. Come along now. Come on.

Straight to bed. Come on, my dear. Richard Hayne Castle. There you are.

There you are.

On the bed my kid!

Not enjoyment, only unenjoyment.

None of all have the same tastes, you know, my boy.

Come on!

Outside or I'll knock the hell out of you!

Smash the daylights out, you woman!

SPOTLIGHT!

There was not so much anger that I felt.

Not even disgust.

All that was there.

It was far deeper.

There was a warning note echoing in my mind.

The sound of an age perverted and deformed.

The sound of that particular year.

1914.